


Turning Saints Into the Sea

by indevan



Series: Rock Band AU [37]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M, Guilt, Piccolo is a Mess, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:39:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14498172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: He didn’t plan on developing feelings for Chi-Chi but spending so much time here and around her, it just.  Happened





	Turning Saints Into the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> [AU timeline](http://vertigoats.tumblr.com/post/166537761367/since-after-the-first-few-the-fics-in-rock-band)
> 
>  
> 
> if anyone was wondering about piccolo's dream he mentioned in the last fic, here you go lmao

Watching Gohan drum is almost frightening sometimes.  Piccolo watches him, watches the determination on his face, and sees himself.  They don’t look anything alike but the spirit is there, the fire. When he was little, he begged his uncle to teach him to drum like him.  It’s not like he wasn’t always around. His uncle raised him and Piccolo grew up sitting in recording studios and on tour buses.

Now he watches Gohan, watching him drum with a look of determination: tongue out, brow furrowed--and he’s proud.  He’s glad that he came up to him on the group tour and asked him to teach him.

“Good,” he says once he’s finished.

Gohan’s eyes light up at the praise.  Admittedly, Piccolo isn’t good at  _ telling _ him how proud he is of him and it shows.

“What should we play next?” he asks eagerly.

He’s about to speak when Chi-Chi walks back into the room.  She’s dressed in a pair of leggings and a Giants sweatshirt that hangs off of one shoulder, her hair in a messy bun.  His throat goes dry and he has to look away. He didn’t  _ plan _ on developing feelings for Chi-Chi but spending so much time here and around her, it just.  Happened. Her sharp tongue and how her tone can go from sweet to brooking no disagreement.

“Sweetie, it’s actually time to call it quits,” she says. “I just put Goten down for a nap.”

That’s usually their cue to end whatever lesson is had that day.  Truthfully he’s glad when Goten goes down. He’s learned how to talk to Gohan but Goten’s still too young for him to know what to do with him.

“Aw,” Gohan says and stares at his sticks.

Piccolo clears his throat and says, “Next time.”

That seems to brighten him a little bit to the point where he doesn’t even try to argue when Chi-Chi tells him to go wash up for lunch.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” she asks.

He waves a hand. “No, it’s fine.”

“At least stay for lunch.”

She tries this every time, but he refuses and uses his diet as an excuse.  He doesn’t know what he would do if he were one on one with Chi-Chi, even with Gohan as a buffer.  He doesn’t think he would try anything with her, but he  _ is _ pretty sure he won’t have anything to say.  Just looking at her makes his throat close up.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Thank you.”

She smiles and--Lord.  He is being tested.

“Of course.  Let me know if you ever want to come to dinner.  I’ll even make it vegan for you.”

Piccolo nods. “Oh.  Thank you--I, uh, will.”

He curses his clumsy tongue but Chi-Chi doesn’t seem to notice.

Gohan returns from the bathroom holding up his hands.

“All washed,” he reports brightly. “Is Mr. Piccolo staying for lunch?”

“No,” he says before she gets the chance. “I’ll see you next time, kid.”

He grins broadly and nods. “Got it.”

Piccolo gives a nod of his head before leaving the apartment.  The second his feet hit the pavement outside, he lets out a breath.  This is bad. He doesn’t  _ want _ to have a crush on her--she’s married for Christ’s sake--but there it is.

He figures he needs advice and the one person in his life he can somewhat trust with romantic nonsense is Yamcha.  Since he and Tien got back together, he’s been pretty good and would definitely be receptive to his problem. He knows he’s at this farmer’s market thing with Bulma today so he figures he can go, ask his for his advice without really asking for it, and buy some succulents or something.

The farmer’s market is two blocks from their apartment building, but that still means that he has to take a train from Chi-Chi’s place.

Little tables are set up in what’s normally a parking lot filled with different offerings.  He spots Yamcha looking at a booth of paintings made on slats of reclaimed wood.

“Hey!” he says once he spots him. “I honestly thought you were fucking with me when you said you were coming here to hang.”

Bulma gives him a hug in greeting and Piccolo awkwardly pats her back.  He’s used to her being so tactile whenever she’s over their apartment, but he still doesn’t really think of them as friends.

He breaks the hug and looks instead to Yamcha.

“There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

He looks up at him, one finger toying with his long hair.

“What’s up?”

He bites his lip, unsure how to proceed.  Bulma being here is a roadblock. She’s friends with Chi-Chi, after all, and could let something slip.  He should just pull Yamcha aside and swear him to secrecy. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance because Bulma starts waving her arms over her head.

“Babe!” she calls.

_ Oh, no. _

Piccolo turns to see Vegeta walking towards them.  He has that disgusting denim jacket on despite the summer heat and is carrying Trunks on his shoulders.  There is no way he can say  _ anything _ now.  If Bulma overhearing would make things awkward, Vegeta overhearing would just sign his death certificate.  He’s Kakarrot’s best friend and would undoubtedly tell him immediately.

“What’s up?” Yamcha asks again.  He lowers his sunglasses to peer over them at him, arching his brows.

The small parking lot is suddenly claustrophobic.  Too many ears. No, he doesn’t need advice. He’ll just suffer with this crush until it fades or until he dies.  It’s better that way.

“Nothing,” he says too gruffly. “I was just wondering if there’s a place where I can get a mint plant.”

He squints at him as if he doesn’t believe him--and, honestly, he’d judge him if he did since it was a rushed and terrible lie--but then readjusts the shades on his face.

“Yeah,” he says. “But the dude who runs it is a tool.”

Bulma nods her agreement and Piccolo nods along, not sure what else to do.

\--

As usual, Gohan lets him in the door of the apartment when he arrives for his lesson.

“Hi, Mr. Piccolo!” he chirps.

“Hey, kid.”

He steps into the apartment.  Gohan has already set his kit up in the living room and Goten is glaring at it from his spot in his booster seat.  Piccolo figures that he must be sequestered there after numerous attempts and messing with the drums. It wouldn’t be the first time, anyway.

“Hey.”

Chi-Chi steps out from around the counter in the kitchen.  She’s smiling and wearing short, soft-looking blue shorts and an oversized button-up.  Her hair tumbles from a banana clip and her sheer, effortless gorgeousness takes his breath away.  He bobs his head in greeting and swallows against his dry throat.

She steps closer to him, almost too close, and looks up.  He’s never noticed how short she is. She’s a head shorter than Kakarrot and Piccolo has a good five or six inches on him.  She looks nearly delicate but he knows better than to think that. Gently, she puts a hand on his arm.

“I want to talk to you,” she says.

Gohan gives a slight smile as if he knows what she’s going to say.

“What is it?”

“You...coming here.  Teaching Gohan...it’s.  Sparked. Something inside me.  For you.”

No.  No, no.  Piccolo wants to pull back but he can’t bear it.  He doesn’t believe his ears. There is  _ no way _ Chi-Chi is actually saying this to him.

“I…” he starts but then shuts his mouth, allowing her to finish.

“I loved Kakarrot,” she says, “I mean, I still do but.  I feel this  _ fire _ for you.  I never felt that with him.  We’re just. Comfortable and used to it...and the boys…”

He shouldn’t be here.  This is his fault--breaking up a marriage.  She’s outright telling him that she’s only with Kakarrot because of their kids and he’s just standing there like a log, taking it in.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he says finally.

“I do.”

Chi-Chi tilts her face up and pushes her lips out gently, begging to be kissed.  Her eyes slip shut and Piccolo stares at her. She’s lovelier than any painting, her hands on his chest and her face held like that, and he gives in.

He kisses her.

The feeling of her lips on his is sublime and he can’t get enough.  He moves his hands into her hair and she slides her hands under his arms to rest on his back.

“Mommy,” Gohan says from somewhere far away. “Does this mean Mr. Piccolo is my new dad?”

She doesn’t answer him and neither does he, too absorbed in their kiss.  He’s so absorbed that he almost misses the deadbolt sliding to the side with a metallic clunk and the door opening.

“Hey, I had coupons so guess who got us fried chicken for lunch.”

Piccolo leaps away from her at the sound of Kakarrot’s voice.  He turns to see him in the doorway, his keys in one hand and a bucket from KFC in the other.  He looks stunned. His mouth opens and closes as if his pot-fried brain is firing on all cylinders to try and find words.  The keys fall from his hand to land in a jingling heap on the floor and the bucket of chicken follows soon after. It lands on its side, its contents spilling onto the carpet, but Kakarrot doesn’t seem to have noticed.

“Kakarrot,” Chi-Chi starts. “I--”

He shakes his head.

“What are you doing with my wife?”

He isn’t yelling and that scares Piccolo more.  He’s seen him yell. Seen him almost pound Cell into the ground.  His voice right now is low and venomous--dangerous.

“I…” He doesn’t know what to say.

“What.  Are you doing.  With my wife?” he asks again.

“We were kissing,” Chi-Chi says. “I’m leaving you.  For Piccolo.”

He turns to look at her--she was what?  He turns back to Kakarrot in time to see him slam the door.

“What?” he demands.  He sounds less angry and more hurt now. “Chi-Chi, I thought we were happy.”

“We were comfortable.” She leans in close to Piccolo and rests her head on his chest.

Goten squirms in his seat, visibly angry, but Gohan still beams up at him like his father isn’t losing it in front of them.

“How long has this been going on?”

He almost answers that it’s within the past thirty seconds but he doesn’t think that will go over well.

“HOW LONG?!”

“Lower your voice,” Chi-Chi says, rolling her eyes.

“Lower my voice?  You’re cheating on me and saying you’re leaving me and you want me to lower my voice?!”

He closes the distance between them and Piccolo stares down into the dark depths of his eyes.  He’s never seen him this angry, this close to erupting. It’s terrifying.

“And you,” he seethes. “You haven’t said anything--is this what you do?  Worm your way into people’s lives, turn their kids against them, and steal their wives?  Huh? Is that it?”

Chi-Chi rolls her eyes again and nuzzles against Piccolo’s chest.  He isn’t sure what’s happening.

“I…” he starts. “I’m sorry.”

This isn’t what Kakarrot wants to hear apparently because he cocks his fist back and slams it into his face.

Piccolo awakens with a start, flailing out of bed.  The sheets tangle in his legs and he stumbles down, just barely catching himself on his forearms.  Slowly, he pulls himself back on top of the mattress and rubs his temples. A dream. Of course it was a dream.  Chi-Chi doesn’t like him back and, furthermore, she wouldn’t be so flippant. She wouldn’t write off her husband and the father of her children in such a way.  God, he’s a wreck.

\--

The dream sticks with him all the way on the train to the studio.  Piccolo hopes that whatever King Kai has to say about the critical and commercial response to their album can get his mind off of it.  By all accounts, he  _ shouldn’t _ feel guilty because he didn’t actually do anything, but the dream felt so  _ real. _

He pushes the door open to the studio to see that he’s the last to arrive.  Tien makes that scowling, grumpy face of his.

“Train schedules,” he says by way of excuse.

That seems to placate Tien (although Piccolo’s certain that Yamcha’s arm entwined with his helps matters) and they walk towards the meeting room.

“You okay?” Krillin asks, ever the observant one.

He doesn’t know what to say so he simply shrugs.  Jaco pops up, anyway, to pretend to be of use and usher them into the meeting room as if they weren’t already on their way there.

King Kai is waiting for them, a flat look on his face and Piccolo begins to think that they aren’t going to be receiving  _ good _ news.  Granted, he knew that coming in.  He knows their last album sounded disjointed and overly polished.  Unreal. It didn’t help that Tien fucked off upstate right before recording started.  Critically, though, it was well-received. He doesn’t want to look at sales because he knows they’re not so hot.

“Sit down.”

King Kai gestures to the chairs and the four of them sit.  He feels bad all over again for being glad that they’re going to probably get a Lecture because it’ll get his mind off of the dream.  It’s not like he wanted to be a rock drummer, after all. He’s a  _ jazz _ drummer who happened to hit it off with two other musicians who answered Tien’s wanted ad.

“So.  The album.”

Tien clenches his fists in his lap and Yamcha puts his hand over them.

“Yes,” Krillin says. “It’s getting good reviews!”

King Kai nods, acknowledging that.

“True.  But they also said there’s no viable single and the music feels uninspired and not ‘raw’ compared to other groups on the label.”

Piccolo sees Tien cringe again.  He can just  _ guess _ who the other band those reviewers are referring to.  Out of all the bands on the label, they’re probably the most in direct competition with Apetail in terms of sound similarity.  Or they would be if those five idiots didn’t effortlessly blow them out of the water. Tien is a good bassist but he doesn’t have Turles’s raw, thrumming energy with how he plays from the hips.  Yamcha and Krillin are talented guitarists but, again, can’t measure up to Kakarrot and Vegeta. According to their record company biography, Vegeta has been playing guitar since he was  _ five. _  He’s already acknowledged his own failings as a rock drummer especially compared to Raditz--but maybe he’s also being easier on Kakarrot and, by extension, his band because he still feels guilty.

Maybe.

Before the dream, he mostly just tolerated Kakarrot.  The only member of Apetail he didn’t actively dislike was Broly, who just quietly minds his own business.  Yamcha looks like he wants to say something but then decides against it.

“So what do we do about it?” Tien asks. “Change ourselves?”

King Kai waves a hand and shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t ask you to.  You have your own sound. If every band on the label was like Apetail, I would already be six feet in the ground.  But, that does bring me to the next topic: a tour.”

Krillin cocks a brow.

“A tour?  To support this album?”

“Not exactly.” King Kai removes his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You aren’t going to like this, but we’re organizing a tour this fall--four months--of you headlining for another group.  To get your faces out there so when you come back with a stronger album some time next year, people will remember you.”

Piccolo doesn’t hate the idea--it makes sense.  In all honesty, they were all spoiled getting equal billing on their first tour.  Opening for other bands is par for the course.

“Who are we opening for?” Krillin asks.

King Kai hesitates.

“Well, they’re the most popular band on the label so you can be sure that people will be at the shows.”

His stomach drops out.  There’s only one band that fits the criteria of being both the most popular on the label and being one that would make King Kai hesitate and not say their name outright.  The others seem to have realized it, too.

“Oh no,” Tien mutters.

“They’re nice boys, really,” King Kai says with a grimace.  Under his breath, Piccolo hears him add, “Deep down.”

“We have to spend four months.  On the road. With Apetail.”

Tien takes a deep breath and is clearly trying to center himself.  Yamcha flashes a broad grin at them, jerking his head between his boyfriend and their manager with almost frightening speed.

“Should be fun, yeah?”

Piccolo’s treacherous mind goes back to the dream and--no.  “Fun” isn’t the first word to come to mind.

\--

He doesn’t think he can go back to the apartment but he knows he has to.  He doesn’t want to let Gohan down. The way he plays, the kid can go places.  Piccolo can only hope that Chi-Chi’s too busy with Goten to show up being feisty and lovely and remind him of that shit terrible dream.

Luck, of course, isn’t on his side because it’s worse than Chi-Chi being there, reminding him of kissing her in his dream.  It’s far, far worse.

“Hey!” Kakarrot says brightly. “You guys hear about the tour yet?”

He has Goten tucked under his arm and the toddler flings his arms out in accordance to his father’s sunny cadence.

“Yeah,” Piccolo says gruffly.

“Should be a good time,” he continues and does he have to be so friendly?  Why can’t Kakarrot just be a dick who’s never home and doesn’t give a shit about his wife and kids?

Gohan comes out of his room and rushes towards the door.

“Hi, Mr. Piccolo!” he exclaims. “I’m ready!”

“Where’s your mom?”

“Chi-Chi’s at work so I’ve got the boys today,” Kakarrot says, answering for him.

He isn’t sure if it’s better or worse that it’s just the two of them.  Gohan’s already run to his kit set up in the small living room, ready to go.

“I think that’s our cue to hang out in the GoGo room, huh Tenny?”

Goten says a string of absolute nonsense and Kakarrot nods as if he understands what he’s saying.

“The what?”

“The boys’ room,” he explains. “Gohan’s nickname is GoGo and Goten is GoGo 2: Electric Boogaloo.”

_ Okay, sure. _

“Gohan, be sure to listen to Piccolo, alright?”

“He always does,” he says it maybe a little defensively but Kakarrot doesn’t seem to notice.

“Pepelo,” Goten mumbles and he thinks he might be saying his name.

They leave and he can concentrate on Gohan’s lesson once more.  He lets him play him what they worked on last week and gives him minor corrections.  Piccolo doesn’t think he can attribute it all to his tutelage, though. The kid is a natural, like his father.  At that thought, he feels another pang of guilt. Even if he’s inwardly being positive and nice about Kakarrot, he still feels bad.  His earlier thoughts come back to him and, honestly, he wishes that  _ he _ could be a dick who doesn’t care and stop feeling guilty about something he did in a  _ dream. _

About halfway through the lesson, he hears snatches of guitar and turns to see that Kakarrot has come out of the bedroom and has come to join them on his acoustic guitar.  Goten sits next to him, clapping his hands and speaking that weird baby language that Piccolo has no chance of understanding.

The beat he has Gohan playing is still one of the most basic since he’s only six, but combined with whatever melody Kakarrot is playing on guitar, it sounds like at least half of a real song.

It peters off at the end and Gohan widens his eyes.

“Daddy, that was amazing.”

He rubs under his nose and lets out a chuckle.

“You sounded great, so I couldn’t help but join in.”

Piccolo is suddenly vividly aware of how outside of this he is.  He has to cut this lesson short--cut it now. He stands.

“I forgot.  I have to be somewhere.  We’ll pick up next week--uh, good job, kid.”

Gohan looks confused and so does his father, but he needs to get out of here.  He turns and stops himself from rushing to the door. He opens it to find Chi-Chi on the other side, key raised.  She’s in her work clothes and smells faintly of syrup but she still looks unfairly lovely.

“Oh.  Hey, Piccolo.” She smiles. “Are you leaving already?”

He nods.

“Would you like to stay for--”

“No.”

He doesn’t push past her but he darts down the hallway.  This is too much. He wishes he can forget it but he can’t.  He can’t stand the guilt and his dumb crush and--this tour is going to kill him.  Unless, of course, Kakarrot finds out about his dream and kills him first.

Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> http://vertigoats.tumblr.com


End file.
